Royal Child
by Swissmounty
Summary: This is no Christmas Story. Or maybe it is one.
1. Chapter 1

**Royal Child**

 _Crossover Ironside – Streets of San Francisco, set in December 1970  
_

 _WHN to Ironside Episode 3.8 "Seeing Is Believing"_

 _Timeline slightly AU: 3.8 is set in June 1970 instead of October 1969:_

" _When a lowlife bookie is found severely beaten, five witnesses identify Ed as his attacker. Unable to provide an alibi, Ed finds himself having to prove his own innocence; and when the victim dies and Ed is arrested on a murder charge, the team have to find out who the real killer is." (Episode summary by tv dot com)_

 _Challenge by Briroch: "Every Man Needs a Hobby" – Steve's and Mike's hobbies are her contribution!_

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

"Don't tell me you are reading Victory Magazine!" Steve Keller teased Mike Stone when he entered the office on Monday morning. "You can't have sunk that low!"

"Usually I don't, but this is an interesting article."

"Is it?"

As Mike was through reading, he didn't resist when Steve plucked the magazine out of his hands. The inspector whistled through his teeth. The title sounded interesting indeed: 'Robert T. Ironside – Cop and Human Being'.  
"Who in the world would dare write such an article?"

"Look at the author."

There were only three letters, "EDB".

For a moment Steve looked baffled, then the penny dropped. "Of all people! Edward D. Brown, the Chief's right-hand man in person! I never thought that the department's model cop would sell himself that way."

Yet it turned out to be a surprisingly sensitive portrait of Chief Ironside, without giving away any details about his private life. Sgt. Brown had been careful enough. Yet between the lines the admiration and great affinity he felt for his boss shone through.

"Did you know that Ironside likes orchids? Maybe you should invite him to come to the garden center sometime."

Steve laughed. "As much as I love flowers - I'd rather miss a visit to the garden center than going there with the old grump!"

Mike shrugged but thought of his own secret hobby. He would talk to Ed about writing. It was a well-written text, something he would not have expected from this rather nondescript sergeant. It said maybe even more about the writer than about the person depicted. And it was a picture he liked.

* * *

The next day after work, while Steve was on a date with a spirited red-head, Mike took the elevator up to Ironside's office. As usual, the Chief's staff was still at work. For the experienced officer it was obvious that Ed and Eve had worked enough for the day. Whatever work they would get done tonight – it would take them less than half the time to do it tomorrow.

"Good evening! Bob – do you think you could lend me your Sergeant for a few hours?"  
The Chief was usually very ready to help out when his help was needed, although he never thought of his staff as human beings, or so it seemed: the office hours he forced on them and on himself were known to be grueling.

"Evening, Mike! What's up? I've always thought that every emergency sooner or later comes to my desk anyway."

"You are exaggerating!"

"Maybe, but just a little!"

"Downstairs, we get some work done as well, you know."

"Yes, if you get help from upstairs!" answered the Chief acerbically, but Mike knew that his bite wasn't as bad as his bark.

He just laughed. "If you want to flatter yourself by believing so, be my guest!"

Assiduously, Brown had already stood up and put his files away. He was ready to always and instantly help out as well, but right now he didn't mind a change from the demanding Chief to the milder Lt. Stone. He picked up his jacket and hurried to follow Mike up the ramp, while Ironside grumbled something about always drawing the short straw.

"What's so urgent, Lieutenant?"

"Have you had dinner yet, Soldier?" queried Mike.

Of course the sergeant hadn't. He repeated his question.

"Having dinner. On me."

Ed held his step. "You didn't tear me away from the office to have dinner with me."

"Yes, I did exactly that. Let me buy you a steak." He knew how much the sergeant liked a good steak. "You could use it."

Ed shook his head. He couldn't admit that he was amused, could he? Sometimes even Chief Ironside let himself be fooled – by an old fox like Mike Stone.  
Or maybe he wasn't fooled at all, but just let Stone have his will. You never knew with the Chief.

"What is it you want to talk about? Because there _is_ something on your mind. Is everything all right with Steve?"

"Oh, yes, Steve's fine," Mike hurried to assure.

They ordered their steaks and Mike came out with his issue.

"You did a fine job with that article you wrote about the Chief."

Ed was genuinely pleased.

"You know," the seasoned detective hesitated. It took some courage to admit this to a much younger colleague. "I play around with a typewriter as well."

Brown, who had learned a lot from his poker-faced mentor, struggled to keep his facial features under control.

Mike explained that he wrote some love stories every now and then. "Sometimes Steve is a real inspiration to me. The best stories are actually written by real life!"

He also developed his intention of writing a Christmas story, but he didn't have a concept for it yet. If maybe the Sergeant could help him a little?

Ed was honored, yet with the hours he put in at the Chief's office, he didn't have much spare time. Actually he'd written his article while being in prison as a murder suspect. "Let's just hope that Steve's real life will make for a good Christmas story this time!" he laughed.

* * *

Yet Mike didn't get much ammunition for his writing hobby. Time until Christmas became awfully short, and this Sunday would hardly bring anything new.

Steve had finally invited Chief Ironside to a visit in the garden center - an early Christmas present. Kinda.  
As was to be expected, the two smart and spirited men tried to impress each other with their knowledge about horticulture.

Actually both were impressed, but none of them was able to admit it.

Finally both were standing in front of a wonderful orchid, just admiring it. No words were needed, no superior knowledge. This was just plain beauty, and it touched both their souls similarly. Being so different, they still felt connected.

Until...

"Look at that girl!" whispered Ironside.

A heavily pregnant young woman was picking a small bottle of pesticide off a shelf, not far away from them.

"I know her. Stay here, let me handle this!"

Ironside advanced towards the girl. Her name was Julie Willis. Six months ago his assistant had been wrongly accused of beating Frankie Baum to death - the father of her child. It had turned out that her brother, who bore a vague resemblance to Ed, was the assailant. Originally he wanted Frankie "to do the right thing for once" - to marry his sister; but things got out of hand.

"Oh, you have just what I need," Ironside addressed her. "Please give me the bottle in your hand, will you? These products are out of the reach of children – and unfortunately also out of the reach of wheelchair drivers."

She acted like a sleepwalker. She dropped the bottle into Ironside's lap. Thensuddenly she recognized him. She clapped her hand over her mouth and fled.

Steve approached. "What was that all about, Chief?"

"This is ME 605. It contains parathion, which is highly toxic. A pregnant woman shouldn't work with it at all, if you ask me. Rather than not she intended to kill herself with it!"

* * *

 ** _Author's note:_**

 _As you know, I don't write anymore. This story was written for a dear friend for Christmas 2015._

 _Ps - Publishing this chapter I noticed that there are still some extremely loyal readers of my old stories around. I'm surprised and delighted. Thank you so much!_


	2. Chapter 2

"…Rather than not she intended to kill herself with it. Follow her! Find out where she is headed!"

Steve had lost sight of Julie, but then he saw her leaving the garden center. She didn't pay anything, but her coat seemed to have a strange bulge. She managed to catch the bus which just left seconds later.

Steve jumped into Ironside's van, because this was the vehicle they had used to drive here. He followed the bus. The evening traffic was heavy, even on a Sunday, and the van was a cumbersome vehicle, a far cry from his Porsche... Dozens of cars forged ahead of him. Fortunately the bus was an easy target, but Keller almost missed the woman leaving it. She entered a cheap hotel.

The inspector parked the car. He called headquarters. "Has Chief Ironside called in?"

"He's still away but told us to connect you to Sgt. Brown's car."

Yet Ed didn't accept the call.

What had happened? Should Steve wait for him? He might lose the trace of the girl... Steve started getting nervous. Going against the Chief's orders was never advisable. Before he could make up his mind, the call back came – from Ed.

"Where are you?"

It turned out that Ironside had sent Ed, who had been on duty, to buy some atropine, the antidote to parathion. "Find out where in the hotel she is. I'll join you in a few minutes!" ordered the Chief's assistant.

Steve pulled out his badge. Fortunately, the young receptionist was eager to help him – which might have more to do with his looks than with her eagerness to help the law. "This woman doesn't look like a criminal... what's she done?" she asked.

"We don't suspect her of a crime. She might be in danger," explained Steve.

"She has room 305. She took the elevator," volunteered the receptionist.

The entrance door opened and Ed Brown stormed in. Immediately Steve joined him.

The girl at the reception desk could hardly believe how lucky she was – two good-looking young detectives in one day! Yet the two just ran up the stairs, as the elevator was on the top floor. They were faster this way.

Ed knocked on the door of room 305.

"No!" cried a female voice. "No, no, no, don't come in! I don't want any visitors!" Yet the sound of her voice was so desperate that neither of the men felt capable of obeying.

They exchanged a glance. Chivalrous Ed Brown was determined to kick in the door. Steve Keller tried the door knob. The door opened.

The woman was lying on the ground, a bottle of pesticide nearby. The top was open.

"Ma'am, how much have you swallowed?"

"I – I don't know. I – I'm feeling... please help me..." Saliva dripped from the corner of her mouth.

Ed kneeled down at her side and took her pulse. It was slow, far below 60 beats per minute.

"Sorry about this..." he said, pulling his flashlight out of his pocket. He directed the beam into her eyes. The pupils were too small.  
"Slow pulse, miosis and salivation, these are symptoms of poisoning with parathion. We have to give her some of the atropine."

"Be careful, not too much!" warned Steve.

"I know that atropine is toxic itself," uttered Brown between clenched teeth. "Please call an ambulance, will you?"

This was a case for the more experienced ex-marine. Steve on the other hand was quick to reach the phone and convince the receptionist to let him use it.

The ambulance arrived within minutes. The receptionist started to hyperventilate. To no avail – she didn't get any attention.  
Steve led the paramedics up to room 305 and explained to them what had happened.

Meanwhile Julie Willis had started to hallucinate.

Ed was relieved to pass on the responsibility. He told the paramedics how much atropine he had administered.

"Good job, pal!" praised the older one of them. "Without the two of you she would be dead by now." It didn't seem as if he were too impressed though. Having to deal with emergencies every day might have that effect on people.

"We'll take it from here."

The two detectives helped to get the stretcher with the patient out of the hotel. Steve found a few nice words to acknowledge the receptionist's help. Her face lit up and Steve was tempted to arrange a date with her. She was actually quite pretty.

Ed insisted on leaving though.

"What's the rush? We just saved someone's life, and this is my Sunday off. Aren't we at least entitled to a cup of coffee?"

"Do what you please. I'm on duty. The Chief may still be at the garden center. He's not the most patient person on earth, as you may know."

Steve knew. They agreed that Ed would take the van and get the Chief. Steve would take Ed's Ford back to headquarters, where he had left his own car, ... a little later.

* * *

"What I'm wondering about is why Julie Willis wanted to kill herself," said Ironside on the way back to headquarters.

"Because she feels unable to cope with her difficult situation – she is pregnant, the father of her baby is dead and her brother, her only relative, in prison. The lady is entitled to be desperate, isn't she?" suggested the sergeant.

"She's been in this situation for half a year now. Why didn't she kill herself months ago already?"

"Maybe her situation has somehow changed?"

"And what is it that could have changed?"

"Frankie died in June, so that can't be the reason. Something with the baby?"

"It's possible. Or something with Bobby Joe. If I remember well he appealed the sentence."

"I'll find out how Bobby Joe's case is getting on."

"That's what I wanted to hear."

* * *

At headquarters, a couple of phone calls later, Ed informed the Chief, "Bobby Joe has good chances of getting released on probation very soon. The court of appeal acknowledged that he had good reasons to be angry. They also see that his sister needs him. At the moment it is very unlikely that Bobby Joe or his fate should be the reason why Julie would try to kill herself. Maybe the baby…"

"It's not your job to find out if her baby has any medical problems. I suggest you go back to your work. You may go to the hospital tomorrow... before work, that is. They may be able to tell you more then."

It was obvious that the Chief was as worried about Julie as his assistant. He just wouldn't let it show.

"Chief – somehow I think that I am responsible for this entire mess."

"Why in blazes? You didn't even beat up Frankie Baum, although he sure deserved it!"

"If I had found a way to book Frankie for his malfeasances – petty theft, gambling, assault with a deadly weapon - before he got Julie pregnant, she wouldn't be on the run and endangering herself now."

"Stop talking nonsense! She would not be pregnant, that's right – but you don't want to tell me that this unborn child is worth any less than any other child in the world, do you? How dare you wish he or she were not alive?!"

Ed blushed. The last thing he'd had in mind was to disrespect this small human being. He swallowed. "I feel all the more responsible for Julie and her child."


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning Ed went to the hospital. He was told that Julie Willis wasn't in the intensive care unit anymore. She had recovered quite well, thanks to the instant and correct treatment she had got. Probably she had only swallowed a small dose of the parathion.

Yet when the detective came to her room, he found her bed empty.

"She left with a man," explained a room neighbor. "He said his name was Mike."

Ed stopped short. As far as he knew, Julie didn't know many people in San Francisco.

"Can you describe the man?" Ever since five witnesses had wrongly identified him as Frankie Baum's murderer, he was quite reluctant to accept any descriptions, yet the descriptions the women in the room gave pointed to Mike, the keeper of the bar where Frankie Baum and Julie's brother Bobbie Joe had gotten into a fight.

A nurse entered and was upset at the news that Miss Willis had left. "She was supposed to stay here for at least one or two more days!"

There was definitely something wrong here.

Ed hurried back to his car and called the Chief.

"Inspector Keller is here with me. He'll drive me to the bar. We'll meet there."

* * *

They arrived at the bar at the same time.

They weren't too surprised to find Katie there, the woman who'd said that she was working in the showbiz, which was rather surprising, as not even Ironside with his sharp wits was able to find any streak of talent in her - as well as Fred and others who had falsely identified Ed as Bobby Joe. The usual barkeeper, Mike, wasn't present. A young student was replacing him.

The bar flies looked more than a little embarrassed when they saw the Chief approach.

Of course Ironside took care of the questioning.

The guests remembered well what had happened half a year ago.

"Really, Chief, this time we aren't too sure about anything. We learned our lesson well." Katie glanced at the sergeant, whose face bore a stony expression. He still didn't feel at ease around them.

"Then say something you aren't sure of. This time it's not about accusing anybody, but about possibly _rescuing_ someone!"

Steve felt almost sorry for the poor people. Always at the wrong place at the wrong time. They must be frightened by the famous detective.

Now they readily answered his questions, interrupting one another's sentences.

"Yes, Mike was here with a pregnant woman." - "But they left through the back exit a few minutes ago." - "I saw them leave in a taxi."

"Where were they headed?" asked Ironside.

Shaking of heads.

"We don't know. Really, how should we?"

"Tell me what you know about Julie Willis. Have you seen her before?"

"Yes, she came here yesterday. Maybe she wanted to see for herself where her brother had beaten up the father of her baby."

"What exactly did she ask?"

"How it had happened and so on... just about what you asked back then."

"And you did explain it to her?"

"Well, yes, I did, mostly," answered Katie, the actress.

"But it was Mike who told her about Bobby Joe," Fred threw in. He was less pushy than Katie, but his observations had turned out to be more accurate than hers.

"What about Bobby Joe?" queried Ironside.

"She said that he was hoping for probation. But Mike said that he would not get it. He remembered that the newspapers said that Sgt. Brown would be punished with all due severity for beating Frankie to death. But as he didn't do it… Hence Bobby Joe will not get off that lightly, will he?"

"What on earth should be logic behind this reasoning?" thundered the Chief.

"Well, we thought…"

That was the crux of the matter, obviously. Julie was desperate because she believed the barkeeper!

"And after that she left yesterday?"

Everybody nodded. "Yeah, immediately after that she left."

Ed had been thinking about something else. "Today - did Miss Willis _want_ to go with Mike or was she rather reluctant?" From what he had heard at the hospital it sounded like something close to an abduction, though not quite. Maybe he had made her some false promises.

The bar flies looked at one another.

"I think Mike talked about making a home for her and her baby," uttered Katie cautiously.

"He desperately wanted a family. As he wasn't a pretty young guy no more, he might have thought that this Miss Willis was his chance. She on the other hand needed a husband badly, didn't she? In her position, she wouldn't say no; it would have been silly, pregnant with the child of a dead bum. Although Mike can be quite irascible at times."  
He had lost quite a few girlfriends because he tended to beat them up when they disagreed with him, she said.

Steve's sense of gender equality started to protest. A pregnant woman without a man wasn't fair game, was she?!

He glanced at Ed and saw the same feelings mirrored in his face. Ed cringed at the idea of Julie having to marry any man just to be married.

"I heard him say that he wanted to present her to his parents as a Christmas surprise," knew Fred.

"He came here with her to get some money from the cash register," added Katie.

"Where do Mike's parents live?" asked Ironside sharply.

Fred didn't know.

"San Jose," answered Katie.

"Then that's probably where they are headed," said Ironside.

Meanwhile Ed had thoroughly examined the rear exit.

"Chief, I doubt that she went with him out of her free will. Look at that!"

The wooden doorposts showed some fresh horizontal traces.

"If she tried to grasp the doorposts, her fingernails would have left this kind of traces," added Steve.

Ironside discovered some tiny bits of red color. "Does this mean something to you?" he asked.

"I'd say this matches the color of her nail polish," suggested Ed.

Steve looked around. A train timetable caught his eye. It opened at a bookmarked page: railway connections from San Francisco to Stockton.

"That's odd," wondered Ironside. "Ma'am, are you sure that Mike's parents live in San Jose?"

"Oh, err, no, maybe it's Stockton... it sounds so similar..."

"There's a passenger train leaving from Oakland for Stockton at 11:20 – that's in fifteen minutes!" Steve exclaimed.

"Get that train!" barked Ironside.

The two young men complied. It was actually too far to get there within such a short time, and the Chief would certainly not pay any speeding tickets. Nevertheless Ed did his best. Yet when they passed headquarters, Steve jumped out to get his car. "My car is faster than yours", he explained. "If we have to follow the train, the difference may be crucial."

* * *

Ed was the first to arrive at the railway station. It was 11:23. He had made a good time, but not good enough. Maybe the train was a few minutes late?

He sprinted to the platform where it was supposed to leave – and was relieved to see that it was still there.

At this very moment people started to step out of the train and walking _away_ from it!

Ed observed the crowd well. He didn't detect the barkeeper or Julie Willis.

Meanwhile it was 11:28.

Breathing hard, Steve joined him. Unlike the sergeant, he was an experienced train traveler. He pointed up to a sign saying, "Canceled".

"I see," answered Ed. "But where are Mike and Julie?"

The flow of people became thinner and thinner, but no familiar face showed up. Had their line of thought been wrong?

The last one to leave the train was a conductor. Steve kept him back. "We are looking for a man and a pregnant woman." Ed gave him a rough description of the pair.

The conductor shook his head. "No, there was no pregnant woman on the train. I'm sure I would know."

Steve's mind raced. "Is there an alternative getting to Stockton?"

The conductor scratched his nose. "Well, no, yes... there was a freight train bound for Stockton leaving a few minutes ago." He told them where they could find out more.

Steve led the way. This was his territory.

They found a railway worker busy welding a piece of sheet metal to a pole.

"Yes, I think I saw such a pair," he said. "The man pulled the woman into the caboose. She didn't look as if she liked it. I whistled, but they didn't hear me – or they didn't want to. It's prohibited to travel in the brake van, of course. But then the train started up and I couldn't do anything. Plus it wasn't really my business, was it? The brakeman was responsible, not me."

"Let's report this to the Chief," suggested the tall sergeant and took off, leaving Steve with little else to do than rush behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

From his car, Ed called the Chief in the van, assuming correctly that this was where he would find him. In short words he updated his boss.

"I found out where barkeeper Mike's parents live," said Ironside. "It's near Stockton indeed. But they were seen leaving in a camper. They could meet anywhere. If Mike is slightly psychopathic, he may hurt Julie, and we may never know it."

Excitedly Steve snatched the microphone out of Ed's hand.

"I know a bridge where the railway passes under the highway. From there I could jump onto the train and free Julie..."

"You have watched too many James Bond movies, kid! Jumping onto a train today is crazy! All you would achieve is to get yourself killed."

"The freight trains cruise at a maximum speed of 50 miles per hour. The terrain I have in mind rises. There the train slows down. I think I can do it."

Keller knew what he was talking about. Sometimes being a railway fan came in handy. He _was_ an expert!

"What about the caboose?" asked Ed. "From there he can see your approach."

"There is also a brakeman. Mike has to keep Julie and the brakeman under control. I doubt that he has much time to observe the train, especially as he doesn't expect any danger from the roofs."

"He might push you off the train without taking his hands out of his pockets!" The Chief still didn't take the young officer seriously.

"Chief, I'll go with him," announced Brown in his firm, quiet way.

"Do you see an alternative, Sir?" asked Steve provocatively.

"If you absolutely _want_ to break your bones – what are you waiting for?!"

He was right. A few minutes' hesitating and the entire plan would become obsolete.

Both detectives ran off.

"Let's take my car," gasped Steve. Ed agreed. Not only Steve's Porsche was considerably faster than his Ford – but it would also be _his_ problem to worry about explaining any speeding ticket.

Steve slammed the magnetic blue light onto the roof of his car and stomped onto the gas pedal. Ed completely agreed with him. Julie Willis deserved to live a self-determined life.

* * *

"This is the bridge I was talking about," said Steve, pointing ahead. The two men jumped out of the provisionally parked car.

They saw the train approaching. Keller had been right: it was slow. Yet when it started to pass under the bridge it didn't really look that way.

Brown had been an officer in the Marines, and he was considered an exceptionally brave officer. Noblesse oblige. Yet he had jumped _off_ trains in his youth, but never _onto_ them.

"I've done this before," Steve encouraged him. "It's not as hard as it looks."

Ed nodded. "Ok then..."

He swung his long legs over the railing.

"But be careful!" warned Steve. "The Chief will eat me alive if he loses some of your working time because of a broken leg..."

"Don't worry," answered Ed drily and jumped.

Steve followed suit.

Brown was almost pulled off his feet. Keller's steady arm helped him find his balance, until both of them were kneeling safely on top of the freight wagon.

"We've gotta get to the end of the train," Steve reminded his friend. As if Brown hadn't known that by himself.

Steve straightened and started to balance along the roof. It was obvious that he wasn't doing that for the first time either. Ed followed, not quite as confidently. It was definitely a strange way of travelling. Somehow he managed though: left foot, right foot… What would they do at the end of the wagon?

Yet it wasn't a big problem. Once Ed had got the knack of it he just took a longer step. There wasn't even much difference in height between the wagons.

"Hey, the usual way of doing this is by fighting against the bad guy!" shouted Steve with a good portion of gallows humor.

"Yeah, and the bad guy falling from the roof while the train crosses a bridge. Are you sure the roofs know that we are the good guys?" retorted Ed.

* * *

Steve reached the caboose first. He peaked through one of the small windows.

"A man – probably the brakeman – is tied to a pole. Julie Willis is leaning against the boiler and clutching her stomach. Mike is bumming around her and playing with a _gun_."

"How can we get to him?"

Ed didn't have to whisper. The caboose was swaying precariously, and the noise of the train drowned every other sound.

Almost.

The cry of a woman let the two would-be rescuers start up and forget about any subtleties. Steve, more agile and better adapted to trains, leaned over the roof and opened the sliding door at the side of the caboose. Ed held his left hand to secure him while he reached down with his right. Then Steve swung his legs into the caboose.

"What the heck..." shouted Mike, pushed Julie away and attacked Steve.

Julie stumbled away from him, towards the open door.

Ed, who followed hard on Steve, managed to catch one of her wrists. Her momentum almost pulled him out of the door, but then he managed to grip the oven and pull the girl back to safety. She collapsed in his arms.

Meanwhile Steve had blocked Mike's attack successfully. He knocked the weapon out of his hand, then pushed him back against the wall. The series of blows to his stomach might not have been absolutely necessary to subdue the outraged man.

Gently Ed placed the unconscious girl in the recovery position. A glance at his colleague showed him that Steve didn't need his help.

Steve freed the brakeman and handcuffed Mike safely to the same pipe Mike had used for the purpose. The brakeman rubbed his wrists to bring the circulation back but didn't comment.

Then Steve joined Ed. They tried to assess if the girl had any injuries.

This was the first thing Julie saw when she opened her eyes: two angels bent over her.

Was this heaven? Had she died after all?

"Are you hurting?" asked one of the angels. He bore a slight resemblance to her brother: hair neatly parted on the side above a square-jawed, but friendly face; long limbs, slender, gentle hands... It didn't surprise her much, as Bobby Joe had been a guardian angel for her all her life. Maybe this was the standard look of angels. The second one looked different though, smaller, with rather long blonde hair and lively eyes...

Why on earth should she be hurting in heaven? Why the question?

No, this wasn't heaven, for actually there _was_ some pain. There was no pain in heaven. She was definitely still alive.

In her half-aware state it dawned to her that someone in heaven wanted her to remain that way.

"My belly hurts a little..."

Instantly she realized what she had said. "My baby! What happened to my baby?" Panic showed in her voice.

Neither one of her rescuers had any experience with unborn children, whereas the brakeman had. When he saw the woman relax, he pulled a watch out of his pocket. "Tell me when the pain starts again."

Now the penny dropped. The three young people looked at one another. The cry Ed and Steve had heard took on a very particular meaning now, and Steve felt a tiny bit sorry about the rough treatment given to Mike.

What would they do if the baby chose this moment to be born?!

It turned out that the contractions were four minutes apart.

"If this is your first child, ma'am, then you will have plenty of time to get to a hospital."

"We are approaching Walnut Creek. There's a hospital," reported Steve, who was peeking out the window.

"We are not scheduled to stop there, but that's no problem. Let me handle this. You take care of the lady and that crook," stated the brakeman, who seemed to have the temper of a brick wall.

Soon afterwards he pulled the breaks.

Ed led Julie Willis out of the train. It had become obvious that she felt more at ease with him than with Steve, and Ed knew the reason: his resemblance to her brother – which had cost him several nights' sleep and some prison time.

Yet there was one thing he had to know. How should he put it? This topic was not his cup of tea.

"Ma'am – we didn't ask you if you wanted to be saved. We just decided what we thought was best for you…"

"If you think that I wanted to go with Mike – heavens, no! He told me that he could take me to someone I wanted to see. I thought it was my brother. Only in his bar I realized that he was talking about his parents."

That wasn't quite the sergeant's concern. "And… you _do_ want to live, don't you?"

This was the hard part. Her vision of heaven clinched it for her. "Yes, I want to live and to be there for my baby… I just don't know how to do it."

Ed thought of his adventure on the roof of the shaking train. "What about taking just one step after the other and trusting that there will be a helping hand when you need one?"

She smiled into the next contraction. Helping hands were a reality. Hands of angels and others.

 _\- tbc -_


	5. Chapter 5

As it was the fastest way to get to a hospital, they took a taxi.

Meanwhile Keller called the police, then escorted Mike to prison.

Yet when it turned out that Julie didn't have any insurance, the hospital didn't want to give the dubious woman without any papers access.

Birth pangs were now following one another in a fast rhythm. The nurse at the reception looked compassionately at the young couple, or what she assumed was one, but without an insurance policy...

Desperately Ed tried to remember what the then-homeless Ernie Clark*, the streetwise bum had said when his girlfriend was about to give birth to their son. Ernie had cited some law paragraphs, and then his girlfriend had been accepted. Ed couldn't remember the right paragraphs. Time was getting precariously short.

Against his will he had to think of another baby in similar circumstances, and it was now, thousands of years later, considered a romantic festivity. It couldn't have been romantic then, no more than their present situation was. How could people sing sweet Christmas carols?!

Was there nothing to convince the nurse?

A sudden inspiration… what had Ironside said about this unborn child? Why not go through with this line of thought?

"Sister, this is a royal child. You don't want to reject a possible future king, do you? Have you never heard of royalties travelling incognito, and of the police having to protect them? I'm a police officer." He showed his badge.

The nurse eyed him perplexedly. Then she stuttered without much coherence, "How can you be sure that the child will be a boy?"

In spite of the serious situation Ed almost burst out laughing. His face remained stony though. He'd had a good teacher – Chief Ironside, the best there was in this field. "Would you rather endanger a future princess's life?"

Without a word the nurse turned around to catch the next wheelchair.

An hour later Julie Willis gave birth to a healthy little girl.

* * *

When Ed phoned to the office, Ironside told him that he had found out that Bobby Joe Willis would be released on probation on Christmas Eve.  
Finally things started to light up for Julie.

* * *

Late in the evening, after everything was more or less settled, Steve took Ed back to San Francisco and then to the bar where everything had started. As another officer had to get Ironside and the van at the restaurant, there was a black and white left there, which of course Ed had to get back now.

The regulars of the bar detected them immediately and didn't let them leave without a cup of coffee.

The two officers told their story as shortly as possible, as far as police work was concerned, but Steve couldn't keep himself from telling them about Ed almost becoming a midwife...

"What, you called Frankie's bastard a royal child?" Katie almost rolled on the floor laughing, and so did her friends.

"What other lies did you dish them out, Sergeant?"

"It was no lie," stated Ed. His voice was neither aggressive nor defensive, but two degrees colder than the ice in Katie's cocktail.

As he didn't look as if he would volunteer any more information, Steve took over. "It wasn't a lie, because, you see, if neither the father nor the mother wants a child, it must have been the Lord's will that he or she is born. Therefore this little girl is the Lord's child, the daughter of the king of kings. You dig?"

Somehow Steve had touched their heartstrings. For the first time they understood that a person didn't need to be a planned child of a picture perfect family to be valuable. Maybe they felt like being unwanted children themselves. At any rate the general mood changed suddenly.

Katie moved her considerable weight off her chair and wobbled slowly to the bar counter. As if she were the CEO of a big enterprise she took charge. "What's the name of the little girl?"

"Amy," answered Ed reluctantly.

"Ok, so Amy is a little princess. She needs to be welcomed majestically in our world. She needs clothes, a stroller, a little bed and so on. We'll need some cash. That's what we'll do: on Christmas Eve there will be a fundraising project in favor of little Amy. I will give the performance of my lifetime. We collect prizes for a raffle. Fred, you are Santa Claus, but instead of distributing presents you sell raffle tickets. Sergeant Brown, you are tall – I'm sure you are good at playing basketball. Organize a street game for the kids of our guests. Inspector Keller, you sketch a poster and photocopy it, like those "wanted"-posters. We will distribute them."

Steve started to harrumph. Now this was Mike's business, not his. "Actually... I know somebody who can do that much better than me..."

He looked at his friend, who obviously wasn't thrilled at the idea of doing anything with these unreliable people. Half a year ago they had sworn that he had beaten up Frankie Baum. He had been in prison because of them, and things could have gone _very_ wrong without the Chief's smart and persistent investigation, which finally cleared him. And now they expected him to help them with their crazy project! This was asking too much. "Come on, Ed, let's talk about it in the car," Steve said and pulled at the taller man's sleeve.

Brown followed, but held his step at the door and turned around. "I'll be here. Leave the children's program to me."

* * *

Christmas Eve was sunny and warm for December.

When Ironside, Mike, Ed and Steve arrived, the show was in full swing already, and the restaurant was more than a little crowded. Katie turned out to be surprisingly funny. Nice, useful and less useful things were draped on a table as prices of the raffle. Santa Claus Fred was successfully selling tickets. Immediately the friends started their own activities. Ed and Steve were quickly surrounded by kids who were happy to play with them. That way their parents could have a quiet drink and a piece of cake – the takings of this day would be donated to the "Amy – baby shower fund" as well: in absence of the barkeeper the owner of the restaurant had agreed to this arrangement... or rather been talked into. Mike Stone unpacked his drawing paper and pencils and started to do sketches of people who wanted to be portrayed. Ironside found partners for a poker game. Never before had he played poker on Christmas Eve, but this was for a good cause, after all. Stakes were small, but nevertheless he won a considerable sum for Amy. The other players were fine with that... except for the way they had been beaten by the "old fox".

In the evening, when the candles at the Christmas tree were lit, everybody felt as if they had done the right thing – at least once in their lives. Amy would have a proper endowment, and her mother would have a lot of friends in San Francisco.

Before they parted, Ed addressed Mike Stone in private, "Didn't you tell me that the best stories are written by real life?"

"You are right, Soldier," laughed Mike and patted him on the back. "Sometimes they don't even need any writing down. Merry Christmas!"

* * *

* _Ironside S2 Split Second to an Epitaph_

 _ **Author's note:**_

 _This chapter went out uncorrected by faithful beta Lemonpig. The improved version will show as soon as possible.  
Thank you, everybody who read and reviewed this story, and merry Christmas!  
_


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